In this second novel of the Cairo Trilogy, Mahfouz focuses on Kamal, Al-Sayyid Ahmad’s youngest son, now seventeen. He is a student, entering the teacher’s college in Cairo, and hanging around a wealthier, aristocratic set. In fact, his best friend, Husayn’s, family has just returned from political exile in Paris, while his two other pals, Hasan and Isma’il, come from families of distinguished civil servants. Although they are all nominally Muslims, in fact, Kamal is the only one who doesn’t drink alcohol or eat ham sandwiches. The other three treat him, more or less, as an equal. Nonetheless, there is an unspoken gulf. Husayn admits, “I hate fawning over the nobility, but that doesn’t mean I respect the masses. I love beauty and despise ugliness. Sadly enough, beauty is rarely found among the common people.”
Husayn’s sister, Aida, quickly emerges as the love of Kamal’s dreams. This consuming infatuation predictably ends in heartbreak. Later, while pretending to pray with his family at the mosque of al-Husayn, Kamal reflects back, “He remembered how revelation of this tomb’s secret had been the first tragedy in his life and then how the succession of tragedies following it had carried off love, belief, and friendship. Despite all that, he was still standing on his own two feet as he gazed worshipfully at truth, so heedless of the jabs of pain that even his bitterness caused him to smile. He had no regrets over his rejection of the blind happiness illuminating the faces of the men circumambulating the tomb. How could he buy happiness at the price of light when he vowed to live with his eyes open?”
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